


He Looked Back

by Halja



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/M, POV Original Character, off-screen violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 16:26:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1517312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halja/pseuds/Halja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They all already know how it will end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Looked Back

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mythology Kink. Prompt: Greek myth, Orpheus, he'll _always ___look back...

 

He is doomed the very moment the words are spoken and the agreement reached, as they all know. He should know, too: you don’t make deals with shadows in the dark land under the land, and you can’t cheat death out of what is its by right – some of them tried, the cleverest and most cunning among the shadows, the ones who once were heroes and kings and wise men.

But Orpheus doesn’t know, or perhaps he pretends he doesn’t know, as if pretending could make it real. He seems about to take her small fair hand in his own, but then he just turns around, iron and fire in his eyes, and leads the pale ghost he came for towards the distant light.

He is a man in love – many of the shadows have been men and women in love, once. They can’t say they aren’t sorry for him, the kind poet with his warm soothing voice and merry songs to play on his lyre with long nimble fingers, the naive young man who thought he could end their pain and even managed to do it for a little while.

But Orpheus’ kindness is just a short passing thing, a quick flash of light in the everlasting darkness, and it won’t take long for them to forget it, to lose it in pain and torment and oblivion. Besides, he can’t hold their interest for long, as they all know how it will end.

Their King and Queen know it, too. It’s in the cool, hard calm painted on their King’s pale features, it’s in their Queen’s eyes – an old crone’s deep eyes in a maiden’s fresh face. Sometimes, they can still see something hot and alive, in her eyes, a brief flicker of the girl she must be when she breaths in the scent of her mother’s spring flowers and sunny days. 

That very spark was there in the Queen’s eyes as she listened to Orpheus’ songs, and yet the shadows are not sure it has been kindness or mercy, or anything still human at all, that made her lips move as she begged her husband.

The shadows are not surprised, when they see Eurydice come to them again, face and hands pale as they’ve always seen them, her eyes dry and her mouth set in a tight line – of course, she’s not surprised either, though maybe, if she were still alive, she’d cry.

The shadows are not surprised either when they see him cross the river again, his eyes already searching for her and a scar running across his neck, thin and red against his white skin. He still sings, Orpheus, low mournful songs that would make the shadows’ blood run cold and bring tears to their eyes, if they still had any.

When he eventually finds Euridyce again, he smiles and never stops looking at her – the shadows sometimes wonder if he has ever stopped, if he still looked back even in the light and the warmth of the land of the living.

But, after all, they do know the answer.

 


End file.
